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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24503416">Lucky People</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuddenlySullen/pseuds/SuddenlySullen'>SuddenlySullen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Manipulation, Pre-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:09:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24503416</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuddenlySullen/pseuds/SuddenlySullen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Lucky People, so tis said, Are blessed by Fortune whilst in bed." - Giambattista Basile</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lucky People</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"I don't really want to do this," Will chews at his lip. He means to come up with a better excuse to leave, really, but he doesn't enjoy lying to anyone, especially Alana.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alana rubs his arm absently. "It'll be good for you to socialize. Here," she hands him a drink. "Go. Make friends."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With that, she slips into the crowd of psychology graduate students. Will looks around for a few moments as he downs the drink. He feels like there are many pairs of eyes following him, even though most people don't actually seem to notice him at all. He pours himself another drink, catching a look from one of the catering staff, and retreats into a corner to watch the party happen around him. As the party goes on around him, people break off into groups to talk amongst themselves. He watches them, sipping idly at his drink. Whenever it gets low, someone walking by offers to refill it. Instead of answering, he hands the glass over every time and he quickly loses track of how many drinks he's actually had. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Hannibal finally exits the kitchen to make an appearance amongst his guests, he takes a seat on an open couch, holding a drink that he has no intention of consuming. The students around him talk loudly about things he stores in the back of his mind in case he needs them later. He tips his drink towards Alana in greeting when he sees her and gets a smile and a small wave in return before she turns back to the woman she's speaking with. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Will's vision starts to swirl and he can't remember if he ate today. He tries to set down his drink, but thinks the cup probably fell over. He searches the room for somewhere to sit down before his legs give out and finds only one open seat on a couch that seems to have someone sitting on it already. He decides that sitting next to someone is probably better than being the guy who passes out on the floor, so he maneuvers himself through the crowd. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A sudden weight is on Hannibal's lap, accompanied by a head of curls on his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh fuck, I'm sorry," Will slurs in the ear of the man he's just dropped himself on top of. He squirms, trying to get his bearings so that he can get off of this stranger.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal inhales lightly. The man smells sweet underneath the overwhelming odor of liquor and hints of cheap cologne. He wraps a hand around his back to keep him in place. "Are you alright," he asks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Will laughs wetly. The room spins and forces him to close his eyes against the other man's shoulder. "I think I'm drunk."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It would seem so," Hannibal confirms. When he looks up, Alana seems to be staring at them. Her brow is pinched together. She looks like she's considering coming over and Hannibal can't help but feel that it would be a great loss if they were interrupted. "Are you a student of Dr. Bloom's?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fuck," Will groans at the mention of her name. "No. Don't let her come over here. Please," he whimpers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"She seems concerned," Hannibal turns his head slightly when he speaks, giving off the impression of a much more intimate conversation. He's not sure of the connection between them, but his brain is already thinking of the various ways he might be able to exploit such a thing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Will lets out a pained noise, dropping his face into his companion's neck. He can feel hot breath on his neck when he talks and it sends shivers down his spine. Will curls one arm around his savior to touch the small hairs at the back of his head, grounding himself in the feeling of them between his fingers. There are butterflies in his stomach and he can't remember the last time someone made him feel like this. He thinks that might be because no one ever has. He also thinks it might be because he is very very drunk. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I think we can slip away, but I need you to trust me," Hannibal says softly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"My name is Will Graham," Will tells him, nodding into his neck. He smells clean. His cologne makes something coil tight in Will's stomach.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hannibal Lecter," Hannibal says into his ear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal brings a hand up between Will's legs, palming his crotch. He's not surprised that Will isn't hard, considering how drunk he seems to be. The sharp hiss of breath is enough encouragement for him to not pull away. He looks up at Alana just as Will lets out a desperate gasp and can't help the proud smirk that crosses his face. Will's legs widen just slightly. Her cheeks redden and she turns away from them entirely. Will's hips roll up into Hannibal's hand and they both seem equally surprised. Hannibal idly wonders how much of the evening Will will remember in the morning. He wonders how much he cares whether Will remembers at all. His hand stays still, but Will's hips continue to rock into him. The tiny gasps in his ear are obscene and Hannibal wants to get Will alone as fast as he can so that he can save all of his sweet sounds for himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'd like to take you upstairs," Hannibal tells Will. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Will swallows, his mouth suddenly dry, but nods. He rolls off of Hannibal's lap and onto the couch, but is forced to stop and try to adjust to the spinning of the room before he can stand. Hannibal helps him up with a firm hand on his elbow. He's embarrassed, so he turns in to Hannibal, pressing their bodies close. He wants to kiss him. His lips ache with how badly he wants it. Instead of doing so, he lets himself be led through a doorway to a set of stairs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Aren't you a little old to be a student?" Will asks as they're slowly climbing the stairs. He realizes after he says it that it's probably a rude thing to say. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal smiles. "I have not been a student for quite some time. I am a practicing psychiatrist. This is my house. I host a dinner for graduating doctorate students every year."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Will stumbles a little at the top of the stairs and is caught against Hannibal's firm chest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you not a student of psychiatry?" Hannibal asks into the thick curls on top of Will's head. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Will smoothes his palms down the front of Hannibal's jacket. The fabric feels beautiful under his hands.  "I teach criminology at the FBI academy." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Exquisite," Hannibal says, mostly to himself, as he guides Will to his bedroom. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Will paws at Hannibal, hands moving all over his torso. Hannibal lets him, his own hands resting gently on Will's hips. He whines when he struggles to remove Hannibal's tie. The hands on his waist leave and help him, shedding all of the top layers of his suit. Will's hands get more desperate at the contact with Hannibal's skin. He grabs at the softness of Hannibal's sides and buries his face in his neck. It's desperate and not at all gentle, but terribly honest. Hannibal works the buttons of Will's shirt open, smiling when Will shrugs himself out of it, making up for the loss of his hands by mouthing at every bit of Hannibal he can reach. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He bites and sucks deep purple marks down Hannibal's neck and chest. Hannibal lets him, even arches his neck to give Will better access. The red and purple marks dotting his body are Will's design. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"God, baby, you're so sweet," Will purrs between bites. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At first he bristles at the pet name, but Will's compliments warm Hannibal's cheeks and chest. As much as he wants to dislike it, or at least put on the show of disliking it, he doesn't. Hannibal works open both of their belts and pants while Will continues his exploration. Calloused fingers pet through the hair on his chest, dragging nails down behind them. Light red spots of blood ooze up from the marks. Will pauses, like he thinks Hannibal might tell him to stop, then drags his tongue over them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So sweet," Will repeats, kissing the trail of their mixed blood and saliva. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Will's pants are easily nudged down off his hips. Hannibal wonders, in the back of his mind, if he's lost weight recently or just never owned pants that were tailored to his shape. He sheds his own slacks nearly immediately after, then guides Will to his bed. Will tumbles down easily, smiling a loose, drunk smile up at him. His legs fall open, putting his half-hard cock on display for Hannibal. Hannibal lets himself run a hand down Will's chest and stomach, wondering how he came to be so lucky - that an FBI instructor would (quite literally) fall into his lap. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Without realizing it, Hannibal finds himself pressing his fingers down and palpating the edges of Will's liver. He can picture almost perfectly how smooth the muscle would feel in his mouth. His mouth waters at the thought. Will's eyelids are half-closed, his breaths coming in long gasps. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From where he's lying on his back, with Hannibal above him, Will feels like his insides have been turned out. He knows he's vulnerable - gets the distinct feeling that Hannibal knows it too. He feels a strange sense of safety in that. An unearned trust in Hannibal to put all of his pieces back when they're finished. He hopes it isn't misplaced. When he looks at Hannibal's face, though, he sees only reverence and possibly awe. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Not to worry, darling," Hannibal murmurs against his jaw. "I will ensure you are put back together."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Will's mouth drops slightly open at the realization that he had said some of his thoughts out loud. He whimpers when Hannibal takes the opportunity to suck on his bottom lip. He reaches out, feeling almost blindly for some piece of Hannibal to grasp onto so that he doesn't float away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal savors the way that Will holds onto him like he needs him. He pulls lubricant from his bedside table, not bothering to warm it in his hands at all before sliding two fingers into Will. The long whine that he draws from Will's mouth rewards his impatience. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Will's eyes flutter closed and his back arches up off of the sheets. He whines, trying to plead with Hannibal to give him more. Hannibal keeps one hand splayed wide on his stomach, holding him in place. He writhes against it, testing to see when Hannibal will release him. Hannibal doesn't. His hand stays firm against Will's struggling and it brings a new heat low in Will's stomach. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Look at me," Hannibal says, his voice rough. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Will's eyes snap open, they're wide and pleading. Hannibal smiles, baring his teeth. He pulls his fingers away, not missing the way that Will's hips try to follow. They're quickly replaced with the blunt head of his cock, pressing into Will. Both of his hands find a place on Will's hips, holding tight enough to bruise. Hannibal has never considered himself a possessive man, but he appreciates the tableau that he thinks Will's body will make covered in the marks of his hands. He can feel the ache in his own skin where Will made his own design in his flesh. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Please," Will slurs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal means to draw it out just to hear the way Will begs for him just a little longer. His own impatience wins out, though. He thrusts into Will in one long motion, drawing half of a moan from Will's throat. The sound is choked off and aborted when he grinds his hips against Will's. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ceiling swirls in Will's vision. He still feels like he's falling. The only thing he's particularly certain of is Hannibal pounding relentlessly into him and his own voice pleading for it to never end. With the tight coil of pleasure in his gut, Will isn't sure if he's coming or losing consciousness. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal watches when Will's eyes roll back in his head and his body goes slack. He thrusts a few more times into the slick heat of him before he's spilling inside of Will. When he pulls out, Will still isn't moving. He lifts the back of his hand, shiny with sweat, up under Will's nose and over his mouth, feeling his breath. It comes slow and ragged, but it's there. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal finds Will's shirt on the floor and brings it up, setting it under Will's mouth. He uses two fingers to feel his way down Will's throat until his gag reflex starts to work. The muscles convulse against him for what feels like an eternity suspended in time. Eventually, though, hot liquid brushes the tips of his fingers and he quickly removes them, letting Will vomit on his own shirt. He isn't surprised that it's entirely liquor that comes up. He wipes away what's left on Will's face, setting the shirt aside.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Will isn't a small man, but Hannibal has moved heavier bodies. He carries Will into the bathroom, sitting down with him in the bathtub. He pulls Will's back against his chest, holding him upright while the water fills. Will's head tries to loll forward, but Hannibal catches it easily and pushes it back to rest on his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For not the first time, Will dreams that he's spilling. This time, though, his body melts away into a pool of blood. Somehow, he knows the blood isn't his own. He's at peace with the bloodbath he is becoming. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When the smell of his cologne is fully washed away, Hannibal thinks Will smells good enough to eat. His mouth waters when he places soft, open-mouthed kisses behind Will's ear. Once he's satisfied that they're clean enough, he lets the water drain out of the tub and pulls a towel in from the nearby rack. He dries Will first, watching the goosebumps rise up on his flesh as the warm water disappears down the drain. He carries Will back to his bed, wrapped up in the towel, and lays him down with it. He sets a pillow against Will's back to keep him on his side, worried that he might vomit again, then puts on his own shirt and slacks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal is a larger man than Will, something he is aware of, but starts to fully appreciate when he's tugging a pair of his own pajama pants up Will's legs. They're loose around his hips, but Hannibal hopes that he will appreciate the effort. He still isn't sure what his end goal is with Will Graham, only that he has one. The shirt goes on easier, though it does not fit any better. The sleeves hang loose around Will's arms. Hannibal smiles at the sight of Will wearing his clothes and sleeping in his bed, unconscious as he may be. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pulling a syringe from his nightstand, Hannibal finds the vein in Will's neck. He leans forward, rolling his teeth over the skin and sucking deeply until it's bruised a deep red. Will doesn't move at all when the needle slides in. Hannibal isn't sure it's even necessary, but he takes no chances. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He picks up Will's clothing and puts it into a plastic bag before heading back downstairs. Most people seem to have left, but Alana Bloom and several others remain. He smiles when he sees her approaching him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Listen, Hannibal," she begins her lecture. "Will is an amazing case study, but please, you can't let him think there could be something there when there isn't."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal cocks his head to one side. "Unfortunately, Mr. Graham and I haven't had the chance to get to know each other so well. He seems to have had a bit too much to drink. I've left him upstairs to sleep it off after an unfortunate incident with his shirt. I was simply coming downstairs again to retrieve some juice for when he wakes and to politely ask that everyone start to leave."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Be careful with him, Hannibal," Alana warns. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hannibal smiles warmly. "He is lucky to have such a concerned friend. Now if you'll excuse me-" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn't wait for a response before walking briskly into the kitchen. He asks the catering staff to please ensure that the guests all leave and then also see themselves out. He'll worry about the mess later. True to his word to Alana, he finds some mango and pineapple juice in his refrigerator. He had meant to use it for a new recipe, but somehow this seems a more deserving use for it. When he ascends the stairs, he sees Alana on her way out the front door and gives her a half wave with the glass in his hand. He checks Will's pulse, ensuring it hasn't slowed to a concerning level. The sedative, he knows, is not known to react poorly with alcohol. He worries, though, that Will might have just had too much to drink. The attention of an accidental death isn't something he particularly wants to bring upon himself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After his guests and hired help have all gone, Hannibal sees himself out. He finds the lawyer outside of his house as he's coming back from his evening run. A single blow to the back of the head incapacitates him long enough for Hannibal to move him and set his scene. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had meant to take the man's tongue and leave a bouquet in its place. In light of his evening, though, his vision changes. Instead, he lays the man out on his side on the courthouse steps and adorns the scene with the flowers he'd originally intended to replace the man's tongue. It's a near-perfect reproduction of Hans Zatzka's Sleeping Beauty. He does still take the tongue. The recipe is just too good to pass on. On his way out of the man's throat, Hannibal makes sure to puncture the arteries in his neck from the inside. He watches, curious whether he will bleed to death or drown first. In the end he can't be sure and, somehow, that is more satisfying than knowing. Once the life is gone from the man's eyes, Hannibal makes sure to close them before leaving. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Will is exactly where Hannibal left him, chest rising and falling steadily. Hannibal takes the time to shower before climbing into the bed with him, wrapping his body around Will's. Will's heartbeat is rapid. His muscles, though he's been drugged and drunk, twitch with unease. With the weight of Hannibal behind him and a tight arm around his chest, he soon settles. Hannibal buries his face at the base of Will's skull and breathes in his scent until he falls into an easy sleep. </span>
</p>
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